Tell Me Something Happy
by variousflumps
Summary: What would have happened if Kate and Caroline had grown closer when Caroline's marriage was still intact? Would they have resisted all temptation or been drawn into a painful love affair? My second story for McElliot.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"You're not leaving."

"Look, we both know-"

"I won't accept this. I do not accept this."

"You don't have a choice, Caroline. You can't force me to stay. It's done. That's the end of it."

"You're making the wrong decision."

"I'm not. You know I'm not."

"You're being totally short-sighted, you obviously haven't thought this through. You could be deputy head in a few years! Head of department sooner than that, all the staff think you're wonderful, the children love you-"

"The children?" Kate says quietly.

A thin film of perspiration starts to form in the small of her back, in the palms of her hands. The light in her office seems much brighter than usual, the sunlight dazzling; everything in the room looks a little out of place.

"I'm not accepting your resignation. I'll tear it up."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I mean it. I will."

Kate just sighs and takes a few steps towards the window.

"I have to go, Caroline. You know I do. I can't stay here."

"I'm your boss and you'll stay if I tell you to."

She doesn't reply.

"You're not leaving here. I won't have it." She's starting to feel sick.

"For God's sake. You're not the boss of the whole world."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Can we at least stop pretending that you want me to stay because you're concerned about my precious career?"

"One of us has to be, you've apparently mislaid your common sense. Leaving before the end of the academic year is a cardinal sin and you know it, you know that, it's a blot on your teaching record for the rest of your career! You're obviously not thinking clearly and someone needs to point that out to you, someone needs to talk some sense into you and if that needs to be me then so be it."

"You're the one who's not thinking clearly."

"You are going to _ruin_ your career, you're leaving your pupils in the lurch and the school in a mess and you don't seem to give a damn and you're wondering why the hell I'm upset."

"I know why you're upset."

"I'm going to talk to the deputy heads, if you won't listen to me then you'll listen to them, surely. You've taken leave of your senses. You need to be told, Kate!"

"If you call them I'll tell them exactly why I'm going. Calm down, Caroline. Stop shouting at me and please calm down."

"Calm _down? _You're telling me to bloody calm _down_?"

"Yes! I am. You're panicking and I wish you'd stop, it's not helping. You can't possibly imagine that this is easy for me and you're really not helping. I could use your support, right now. I really could."

The catch in her voice brings her up short. She's staring out of the window, her back to the room, her forehead resting gently against the glass. Her shoulders are hunched and she's holding herself tightly around her stomach.

Caroline joins her by the window, standing next to her in silence. A few minutes pass as they watch the trees and listen to the quiet sounds of the late afternoon. The peace is almost surreal.

"Tell me something," she says softly. "Tell me something about you. Something personal, that no-one else knows."

Kate doesn't move. Doesn't look at her. She thinks that she's not going to answer, but then finally she speaks.

"When I was 15 I kissed the girl next door."

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

"What was it like?"

"Brief. She probably doesn't even remember it, it was just a quick peck on the lips. Last I heard she married a builder."

"But you remember it."

"Yes. I do."

She thinks of her own first kiss. The excitement of it, the thrill, the electric, intoxicating thrill. And the fear. The ubiquitous fear.

"Tell me something about you," Kate says.

She thinks about her life. Her secrets. That's so little to choose from, so little that's personal and real. One secret the size of the sun and a thousand and one ordinary nothings.

"The night before I married John he wrote me a letter. It was about how he felt about me and how he saw our lives together, all of his hopes and dreams for the future. I didn't feel much, reading it, but when I went to sleep that night I remember thinking how pleased I was that I had found him, because he clearly cared about me more than I cared about him and that made me feel safe."

Kate turns to face her; she can feel her gaze like a touch.

"Caroline-"

"_Please_ don't go," she whispers.

She hears her take a sharp breath and it's 30 seconds at least before she replies.

"I can't break up a family, Caroline," she says, her voice tight with strain. "I would never forgive myself. You would never forgive yourself, and you'd never forgive me. We'd end up hating each other and I can't bear that. I can't bear it."

"We can be friends. Nothing's happened, we'll carry on as friends and-"

"And I'll kiss you, like I wanted to, like I always want to, like we almost did the other day. I'll touch you when we're alone, I'll wrap my arms around you because I haven't seen you for an hour and I miss you so much I can't help myself. Nothing's happened yet but it will. So I have to go."

It sounds like she's crying now but she can't bring herself to look. The nausea in her body has turned to stone; now she's just numb.

"I'll write you a terrible reference. They won't take you, after that. No-one will ever hire you."

She can feel her eyes on her again, and then a tender hand is caressing her face.

"OK," she says. "You do that. But I still have to go."

There's a quick, soft kiss on her cheek and then she's gone before she can even draw breath.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Bright pink, they were, shocking, but he bought them anyway, didn't listen to me at all. A ludicrous colour for a man, if you ask me, but as long as he only wears them indoors and under his slippers I suppose I can cope. Caroline? Are you with me?"

Her mind's blank. Empty, like the rest of her.

"Caroline!"

"What?"

"You haven't listened to a word I've just said."

"I have."

"Then what was I talking about?"

"Oh I don't bloody know, Mum, something that Alan's done that you disapprove of, something meaningless and insanely trivial and I actually couldn't give a flying fuck."

Celia physically recoils from her.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry Mum, I don't know where that came from. Forget I said anything. Forgive me."

"What on earth's got into you?"

"I'm really sorry, I didn't mean it. I didn't mean anything."

They sit in an unhappy silence. Caroline wonders how she can make her leave.

"I wish you'd talk to me, love."

"About what?" she says sharply.

"About whatever it is that's making you so miserable."

"Don't be daft, Mum, I'm not miserable."

"I know my own child. I haven't seen you like this for years. You know I love you."

"Of course I do."

"Then talk to me, love. Tell me what's up and we can find a way to make it better."

She smiles tiredly.

"I'm really OK."

"You mustn't lie to me, Caroline. You mustn't lie to your old mum."

She's sobbing before she realizes what's happening.

"Caroline! Oh love, come here, come here."

Celia gathers her into her arms and rocks her like a child. Helpless in the wake of her pain she clings to her, wracked with anguish. When the tears finally start to subside she pulls away, embarrassed and spent.

"You're telling me what's wrong right now. Right this second. Do you hear me?"

Forty-six years of life with Celia are enough to know that what sounds like righteous anger is actually fear. But it's not going to make this any easier.

"If I tell you, do you promise..."

"You can tell me anything. Anything. You know that."

"That's not true, mum," she says, her voice quiet. Lost. There's no reply and she can almost hear her mind whirring, trying to figure her out. Does she remember? Does she even remember that day, that terrible day all those years ago?

"All I want is for you to be happy. Now tell me what's wrong."

"A friend of mine, a teacher, resigned at work, that's all. It's been a bit difficult."

"Why has it been difficult?"

"Because...we fell out, a bit, and we haven't spoken since."

"Can't you make up? Apologise?"

She clearly hasn't guessed yet.

"It's not that easy."

"I wish you'd just tell me what's wrong."

"I've lost a friend, I told you. My best friend."

"When did this happen?"

She doesn't answer.

"Caroline? When did it happen?"

"About six months ago."

"Six months! And you're still this upset!"

"Yes mum. Apparently I am. It's not something I have much control over, funnily enough."

She stares miserably at the kitchen counter, willing her to leave, willing her to stay and make it better.

"What's her name?"

Something about her tone sends a chill down her spine. Judgement and disapproval and disappointment all mixed into one. She's 19 again, frightened, needing her mother's love and finding revulsion. So she remembers. She remembers after all.

"Kate. Kate McKenzie."

"McKenzie? I met her once, didn't I? At the school? That autumn fair thing?"

"Oh. Yes, you did. You did."

"Where's she from?"

"Why does that matter?"

"I'm just asking."

"Near Durham, she moved here for work."

"No, I mean, originally. You know."

Fighting a sudden surge of anger she stands up and walks quickly to the window.

"That's the most important question right now is it, mother? That's the one thing that's on your mind?"

A tense, charged silence.

"You're right. I apologise. I don't know what to say to you."

"How very unusual."

"Caroline..."

The seconds tick by. She thinks about throwing her out, simply telling her to leave. And yet she's not sure it would help. She has no idea what would help her, now. She might be beyond saving.

"Have you been...were you and her..."

"No."

"But there was...something..."

"Yes. There was something. So she left. Said she didn't want to break up a family."

"How very noble of her."

"Get out. Get out if you're going to insult her, if you're honestly going to sit there and talk about this wonderful woman like that, like you're _blameless_, like you've never caused me pain in your life-"

"Caroline! Don't talk like that, why are you talking like that! You're my daughter!"

"Yes, I'm your daughter. And I love her with all my heart and I'm drowning and if you ever say another word against her I will never forgive you. _Never_."

Her hands are shaking, white hot fury flooding her body. An image of broken glass fills her mind, of her fist shattering the window in front of her, blood seeping from her veins.

"Where is she now?"

"I told you," she says angrily, "she left, she resigned."

"She left Harrogate?"

She turns to look at her. "No. I don't know. She got a teaching job in York."

"So you could find her?"

She stares at her.

"You could find out where she lives?"

"Mum...what are you..."

"I'm not saying I understand, that I'll ever understand. I'm not saying that."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I love you. And if someone you love is drowning, you get them a lifeline because it feels like you're drowning too."

Caroline slumps into a chair, the adrenaline fading from her body. "That's very...sweet, Mum. Thank you. But this is why she left in the first place. I could never do that to the boys. She could never do that to the boys."

"They're almost grown, love, they're young men."

She smiles at her sadly. "Are you really trying to talk me into..."

"I just want you _happy_," she says stubbornly.

Caroline reaches over and takes her hand.

"I know, Mum. Thank you. But sometimes we can't get what we want."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

She's disorientated when she wakes. It takes her a few moments before she realizes that her phone's ringing, but the handset is nowhere to be seen. She takes off her reading glasses and scrambles around in the mountain of paperwork on the bed. When she finally finds the phone she almost drops it.

Kate McKenzie.

It's been almost a year. A year without any contact at all, an aching, painful year. And now it's her.

She can't seem to make her hands work, but then she starts to think the worst – maybe she's ill, she's in trouble, maybe she needs her...

"Kate? Kate? Are you all right?"

"Caroline?"

"Kate, are you all right, tell me you're all right?"

"Hey, hey, I'm fine, I'm fine, what's the matter?"

"I just, you're ringing me and I didn't know, I thought...are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm sure. I'm sure. Are you?"

"Yes, I'm fine, I'm fine. Sorry, sorry. I didn't know...sorry."

"It's OK, don't worry. As long as you're all right."

"I'm fine." She takes a deep breath, her heart thumping.

"I was just calling...I wanted to, um, I wanted to say... I was calling to..."

She trails off. Caroline's mind is racing, with one clear thought running round and round in her brain – keep her on the phone, keep her talking. Don't let her go.

"I saw my Dad today, is the thing, and he's not doing very well."

"Oh Kate, I'm so sorry. Is he...I mean, how is he?"

"He doesn't really remember me now, not really."

"Oh Kate. I'm sorry."

"I was talking to him today and telling him stories about us, about when I was a child, and he didn't remember any of it. And then on the drive home I was trying to remember the last time I told him I loved him. Not since he's been in the home, not since the diagnosis, but before then, when he was well. And I couldn't. I don't know when it was."

"I'm sure he knew. He knows."

"But I can't remember when it was. I don't know. I don't know if he's got that memory within him somewhere, if it's there deep down or it's not. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I had to stop in a layby to cry. And when I got home I called my Mum first. To tell her that I loved her, so she'd know it, she'd always have a memory of it. And now I'm calling you."

Her heart is about to beat out of her chest.

"I love you, Caroline. I hope you don't think it's selfish of me to say that, I know nothing's changed. Or I assume it hasn't. But I suddenly had this longing to tell you, I had to, just this once. I hope you...I hope that's all right."

Deliberately, slowly, she breathes in and breathes out. Moments like this don't happen every day; be careful. Be truthful. Be brave.

"I love you, too. It's not selfish, not at all. It's the opposite of selfish. I love you." Her voice breaks and she covers her mouth with her hand, stifling the beginnings of a sob.

The silence is broken only by the sounds of their breathing.

"Don't hang up," she says softly.

"I won't," says Kate. "Not yet."

A whole year to think of everything she wants to tell her, everything she wants to say, and it feels like they've said it here, now, in three short words.

"Tell me something," she says. "Tell me something no-one else knows."

A quiet laugh from Kate and she smiles in relief.

"Let me think..."

"Something happy," she says quietly. "It has to be something happy this time."

"I quite enjoyed kissing the girl next door."

"Well I didn't enjoy hearing about it. The brazen hussy."

She laughs again.

"Something happy. You know, I was at Dad's home a few weeks ago and I was crying outside in the garden, and one of the nurses came and sat with me and held my hand. She didn't say a word, just held my hand for ages. It made me feel so much better, like there was still hope for him, and for me, if that makes sense. I could have hugged her."

"Oh all of these women!" she teases gently, trying not to think about her crying.

"Don't be daft, Caroline. She was at least 60. But very kind. Now, isn't it your turn?"

"Oh. Well."

"Something happy for you, too. Something nice."

"William and Lawrence made me breakfast in bed for mother's day. A full English breakfast and some of it wasn't that burnt."

"That's lovely."

"It is. I was very impressed. With the thought, if not with the bacon."

"They're lovely boys. A real credit to you."

"They are. They're wonderful."

Another silence.

"Don't hang up," Kate whispers.

"I won't," she says. "Not yet. Not just yet."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"And then I married my favourite sheep in a small civil ceremony and we're planning to move to Wales and open a tea shop."

"Right."

"His name's Nigel."

"Mm."

"Do you think there's any point in continuing this conversation or shall we admit that it's time we gave up?"

"Sorry?"

"Caroline, you're not here. I don't know where the hell you are but you're definitely not here."

"Oh. Sorry."

"I don't want an apology. Spill."

"Spill?"

"Yep. Spill. Talk to me."

"Thanks, but I don't think so."

"Well I bloody do. You've been like this for months, your Mum's worried sick about you and you know what I'm worried about you as well. So whatever it is, spill it."

She looks out at the fields, beautiful in the fading light. The stone wall is getting less and less comfortable by the minute but she can't be bothered to move. What difference does it make if her body's in pain, too.

"You're not ill? The boys are OK?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine, everyone's fine."

"Did you lose one or two of the school kids? Locked 'em in a cupboard and can't remember where?"

She manages a faint smile. "No."

"Then for God's sake Caroline, tell me. It might make you feel better."

There's little chance of that, she thinks. But what does it matter either way. She might as well know.

"I'm in love with someone who isn't my husband. And I can't leave my husband because of the boys. So. There we are."

There's silence as Gillian absorbs her words.

"He's single? This other man?"

"Single. Yes."

"Feels the same way?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Does he?"

Sometimes she thinks it would be easier if Kate had never told her how she felt, if it was all unrequited and hopeless. At least then she could call herself an old fool and try to get over her.

"Yes."

"What terrible thing is going to happen to the boys if you divorce John?"

"Gillian-"

"No, seriously. What would happen?"

"It would break up a family. My family. I can't do that to them."

"So it's better for their mum to be miserable, is it? That's what they'd prefer?"

"Don't be so childish. It's hardly that simple."

"How old's Lawrence now?"

She sighs. "He's 16."

"He'll have left home in a few years. It'll be you and John in that house for the rest of your life. Is that what you want?"

"You've decided awfully quickly what's right for me."

"John's a twat."

She stares at her. "Have you been talking to my mother?"

"Nope, made up my own mind. The man's a twat, Caroline. Doesn't take a PhD to see that. What's he like, this other bloke? Where did you meet him?"

"School...we met at school."

"What's he like?"

"Kind. Thoughtful. Clever. Patient. Loving." Her heart is beginning to ache.

"So it's that or a twat."

"Look, Gillian-"

"Seriously, Caroline, I don't see the problem here. Life's too short, isn't it? Your mum was married to your dad for 50 years, you've said yourself she should have divorced him decades ago. That was your dad she would have been divorcing, your family she would have been breaking up, and it would have done you all the world of good. What's the difference?"

She laughs humourlessly. "What's the difference?"

"Christ Caroline, it's not one of the sixth-formers is it? Some buff 18 year-old?"

"No it's bloody well not!"

"How old then?"

"Forty-two."

"Oh. Well that's fine."

"Glad you approve."

"So what is it? Single, right age, loves you, ticks all the boxes. I don't see the problem."

Sometimes she wonders what would have happened if it had been a man, if she would have behaved in the exact same way. Most of the time she tries not to think about it. All of this pain, all of Kate's pain, and if it were just out of fear, out of cowardice...that's not what happened. It can't be. That's not why she's here.

"You're not going to tell me?"

"It's not relevant anyway."

"So there is something wrong with him?"

"There's nothing wrong with...there's nothing wrong with them, I've told you, it's for the boys."

"What's his name?"

"You don't need to know that."

"What's his name?"

"Nigel."

"Oh you were listening."

She smiles and shifts slightly on the unforgiving stone wall.

"Caroline?"

"Mm?"

"What's her name?"

She sits motionless, staring straight ahead. It doesn't seem to get easier, this part. It feels like her soul has been taken out of her body and put on display.

"How did you know?" she asks quietly.

"Them. You said them. Playing the pronoun game. What's her name?"

"Kate," she says eventually. "Her name's Kate."

"Kate. And there's nothing wrong with her? No reason not to be with her, apart from the gay thing?"

"You make it all sound so easy."

"You make it all sound so difficult. You deserve to be happy, you know. I mean you're a right pain in the backside sometimes and you can be as arrogant as hell and you've got a temper on you like a small volcano. But you deserve to be happy. And you're not. So fix it, Caroline. Go after her. Make a choice."

"Thanks for the kind words," she says wryly.

"Are you scared? Never shagged a woman before, is that why?"

"You don't mince words, do you? You're like my mother, blurting things out with no filter. It would be nice if we could perhaps tip-toe around things sensitively now and then."

"Oh fuck that, Caroline, where does that get anyone. Where has it got you? You are scared, aren't you?"

She stares down at her hands and it's a while before she can answer.

"Of course I am," she whispers.

"It's not just about you, you know. I don't mean the boys. I mean her. If she loves you as much as you love her she's sat somewhere right now looking like you look, feeling like you feel. That's your fault. You could fix that, if you wanted to, if you made a choice. You could make her happy."

"What about my _children_?" she says furiously. "How are they going to feel when their mum tells them she's a...how are they going to cope when their father moves out _forever_?"

"How are they going to cope 10 years from now when they find out why you were so unhappy for all these years? How are they going to deal with that, Caroline, knowing that you broke your heart for them? How does it feel knowing that your Mum was unhappy for all those years, seeing her with Alan now, as she could have been? You told me she's like a different person."

"She is."

"There's a different version of you out there. And of Kate. And you're choosing this one because of some misguided sense of loyalty and because you're too chicken to stand up and be counted. You ought to be careful, Caroline. People like you, people who are depressed for years and years, end up losing it. I should know. You ought to get out while you can."

The sun is setting fast; she struggles to see her face.

"I would never compare what I'm going through-"

"I know you wouldn't, it's not a comparison. It's just advice, from someone who's been desperate. Maybe if someone had offered me some decent advice I wouldn't have ended up the way I did. You don't want to get to that point, ever. I haven't seen a proper smile on you in months."

She's starting to feel cold now. The wall isn't getting any comfier.

"How are you managing it, at work? Have you talked about it?"

"She resigned ages ago, moved to York. She didn't want to break up my marriage."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"A year and a half ago."

"Yep. That sounds about right. The last time you weren't such a sad sack. Did she just leave, you haven't spoken to her since?"

"She...she rang, just the once. About six months ago. To tell me...to tell me she loved me. So she'd said it to me, once. So I knew."

"Caroline," says Gillian softly. "What the hell are you doing, you daft thing?"

"I know you don't understand. I know that. But I know myself, and this is serious to me, really serious, it's about loyalty and commitment and not just to the boys, it is mostly for the boys but it's about John too. I made a promise to him for the rest of my life and people get divorced at the drop of a hat these days, all the time, half of my pupils have divorced parents and I think it's wrong, I think it's selfish and it's cruel to the children, actually cruel.

"I will not choose my own pleasure over my children's pain, I won't do it. I won't. And Kate couldn't do it either, she never came near me, never tried anything, because she couldn't have lived with herself if she had. So I'm here and she's there and I have to love her from here, so I am."

She fights back the tears and digs around in her pocket for a tissue, grateful for the fading light.

"I hope this doesn't sound sarcastic, Caroline, because I don't mean it to, but that's rather heroic. Obviously it's bollocks, and I think you're as daft as you like, but still. It's romantic, too. In that way that makes you want to bang people's heads together."

"Can we leave it, now?" she says tiredly. "Can we talk about something else?"

"OK. But only for now. How about a cup of tea?"

"That'd be nice."

"And a chocolate hobnob? Special treat to cheer us up."

"Sure. That'll do it."

"Be right back."

Before she leaves she rests her hand gently on Caroline's shoulder.

"We'll get you through this," she says.

There's no way through, she thinks. There's no ending. Only pain, only absence. Forever.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: Can I say another thank you to all of the lovely people who take the time to review and leave your thoughts, it means a lot to me and it's so wonderful to read your comments. And to the guest who said she was in a similar situation to Caroline in this story - I hope that you find your Kate.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

The decision, when it comes, comes quickly. John's spent months in a temper, the boys have been restless and grumpy, and one morning she finds herself in such a black mood she can't bring herself to get out of bed.

I can't go on like this, she thinks. I can't cope.

And lying there, staring at the bedroom ceiling, listening to the raised voices downstairs, thinking of another day with nothing to look forward to, something inside her snaps. This can't go on, this excuse for a marriage, this misery. She shouldn't have to live like this. There has to be a way out.

She can start with John. Start being honest about the state of their relationship, about the decades and decades of half-hearted marriage – half-hearted _life_ – that stretch ahead of them if they don't make a change here and now.

Maybe they can really talk. Maybe they can really _listen_ to each other for the first time in years. Maybe he's as miserable as she is. And maybe, somewhere down the line, if the decision comes from both of them, if the guilt of the divorce is shared equally between them, she'll be free for the woman she loves.

She gets up quickly, pulls on her dressing gown and dashes down the stairs, dragging John into the living room and closing the door.

"We have to talk."

"Lawrence has made a right mess in the kitchen, I told him to clean it up."

"I don't care John, you and I need to talk."

"About what?"

"About us. This marriage. Right now, we're going to talk about this properly and not keep pretending that everything's fine. It's time we stopped lying to each other, we owe each other that much at least."

His face falls; she imagines that she can actually see the colour drain from his cheeks. A good portion of her courage withers and dies, but she reminds herself why she's doing this and squares her shoulders.

"How did you find out?"

She stares at him confused. "What?"

"You know, don't you? Oh God. Oh my God."

His face is ashen now; he slumps down onto the sofa, holding his head in his hands. What on earth is going on?

"John...what is it you think I know?"

"I'm so sorry, Caroline. I didn't mean for it to happen, I swear I didn't, it wasn't supposed to ever...it was just a bit of fun and then it got out of hand, I couldn't control it. Oh God."

"Didn't mean for what to happen?"

He looks up at her. "Oh Jesus, didn't you know?"

"John, for God's sake, I still don't know what you're talking about! Spit it out!"

"What did you mean, just then, about lying to each other?"

"I meant lying that we're happy, that we can go on like this with everyone in this family being so bloody miserable. What did _you_ mean?"

"Oh God, Caroline. I...I'm so sorry. There's someone else. I've been seeing someone else."

It's almost an out-of-body experience. Her limbs feel weightless, her mind and heart beautifully calm.

"For how long?"

"A few months. Six months, I suppose. A bit longer. I've been such a fool."

Six months. She's been free for six whole months, she just didn't know it.

"I'm so sorry," he says. He looks broken. His head is still in his hands, his whole body hunched. For the first time in months she feels a rush of affection for him. His weakness has saved her.

"I think we both know this wasn't working," she says.

He looks shocked. Baffled. He'd obviously expected fireworks.

"I think we both know this marriage ended a long time ago, but neither of us was brave enough to say it."

"Caroline-"

"Let's sit here for a while. Let's talk about it, like adults, like reasonable, mature adults. I don't want to fight. I don't want to apportion any blame. We'll talk, and then we'll tell the boys. And then we'll figure out what we do next."

* * *

She finds the address easily. McKenzie, K, the only listing for York. She doesn't bother calling.

The house is on a quiet suburban street, lined with trees. She finds a parking space and walks to the front door, a large bunch of red roses in her hand. A surge of pure happiness runs through her as she spots Kate's little car in the driveway.

It takes her a while to answer the door, but when she does she's even more beautiful than she remembers, those dark, lovely eyes, that eminently kissable mouth. She beams at her, electrified, her body buzzing with excitement, the words pouring from her lips.

"We're getting divorced. John's been having an affair, for months, I found out a few weeks ago but I've been looking after the boys and now I'm here. For you."

Kate stares at her. And stares.

"It's over, Kate. I'm free now. I told William about you, he knows, he's happy for us, Lawrence doesn't know yet but I'll tell him too, I'll tell everyone. My Mum knows, and Gillian, they're supportive, they want me to be with you, I've been so miserable with him anyway, I was telling him, trying to find a way out, trying to find a way to come to you, that's how I found out about the affair. I've missed you so much."

"Kate? Everything all right?"

A woman's voice, coming from inside the house. She watches as if in a dream as Kate calls out.

"It's fine, Jill, I'll be there in a second. Caroline...I wasn't expecting you."

"No. No. Sorry. Should have called."

"Come in, come in. Come and meet Jill."

She walks slowly into the house, her brain struggling to process the last few minutes. She's played out this scene a thousand times – Kate flying into her embrace, kissing her, thanking her, telling her she loved her. This Kate just looks stunned.

"Caroline, this is Jill. Jill, Caroline."

She numbly shakes her hand. They're about the same age. She's tall, pretty, slim. Silky, soft hands.

"Caroline? Oh Kate, is this the...she's your...I should leave you two alone. It was lovely to meet you Caroline, really lovely. I should go. Kate, I'll see you tomorrow."

She watches, shocked, as the woman gently takes Kate's hand for a few seconds, gazing into her eyes, before she leaves. There are two glasses of wine on the coffee table. A wave of nausea hits her hard.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...barging in here...I'll go, I'm going, I won't come here again."

She throws the roses onto the nearest chair and almost runs for the door, desperate to escape, humiliated, barely aware that Kate is calling after her. She's just managed to open the door when Kate slams it shut.

"Her name's Jill, her husband's name is Robert, their children's names are Charlotte and Rebecca."

The blood is rushing in her ears, her heart thumping. She feels Kate's arms slide around her waist from behind.

"She's head of languages, that's why she'll see me tomorrow. She knows who you are, that's why she left."

Kate rests her head gently on Caroline's shoulder.

"Who am I?" she says, her voice shaking.

The arms tighten around her waist.

"You're my love," says Kate. "My only love."

"Oh," she gasps, holding on to Kate's arms, leaning back into her body. They stand there, holding each other, for several minutes.

"I've been so presumptuous," she says eventually.

"No, no, you haven't."

"Yes I have! Rocking up here after all this time, assuming that you'd want me, that nothing has changed. What an arrogant-"

"I _do_ want you, I _do_. It's not arrogant at all, it's wonderful. You knew how much I loved you. You knew I'd wait for you."

She tries to turn around but Kate's arms tighten around her middle.

"I want to kiss you."

"In a minute. I can't let you go yet. You might leave."

"Never," she says, smiling, caressing Kate's arms.

"Are the boys all right?"

Her heart aches at her kindness.

"They're fine. Absolutely fine. Do you want your old job back?"

Kate laughs. "Wouldn't you have to fire someone?"

"Oh he was never that good anyway. I really need to kiss you."

This time Kate loosens her hold enough for her to turn round. She leans in slowly, a rush of nerves almost drowning out her excitement, until she feels Kate's soft lips on hers and then all she can feel is pleasure – the hot, wet press of Kate's mouth, the quiet joy of her moan, the welcoming warmth of her body as she holds her close.

The kiss deepens quickly, their passion finally set free after years of yearning, a needy, aching connection that lasts and lasts until the emotions are threatening to overwhelm her and she's forced to pull away.

They gaze at each other, panting, Caroline's heart beating liking a drum.

"Well that was worth waiting for," says Kate.

Caroline laughs out loud. "Yes. Yes it was."

There's quiet as they look at each other, Caroline drinking her in.

"Tell me something happy," she says.

Kate beams at her. "I love you."

"Oh I knew that, something else."

Her laugh is like music.

"My new boss is not nearly as sexy as you are."

"No? What's she like?"

"About your age, tall, intelligent, funny, interesting-"

"Kate-"

"Called Malcolm."

"Ah. Good. Good. Good old Malcolm."

"Your turn."

"I bought presents for you, while we were apart. I have two birthday presents and three Christmas presents wrapped up and sitting in my wardrobe."

"Caroline. That's so sweet."

"And a ring." She blushes and avoids her eyes – she hadn't meant to tell her that bit.

"A ring?" Kate's voice is full of wonder. "Where is it?"

"At home. I wasn't _that_ presumptuous."

"You should have been. You should have brought it with you."

"Really?"

"Really." Kate kisses her, softly, and her heart skips.

"Well you'll just have to come home with me, won't you?"

"Yes please," she says.

She kisses her gently, tenderly, on the lips, before taking her hand.

"Come home with me, darling," she says. "Time to come home."


End file.
